


Kirsten Speeds

by Shippershape



Series: Stretch & Dr. Goodkin [14]
Category: Stitchers (TV)
Genre: F/M, Surprise! - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 19:10:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4636920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shippershape/pseuds/Shippershape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their cover is blown when Kirsten is pulled over for speeding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kirsten Speeds

Their cover is blown when Kirsten is pulled over for speeding.

It took Cameron months to convince her to get her driver’s license.

“You have a car.” She’d said. “If I need to go somewhere you’ll take me.” He had rolled his eyes at that. Not that it was a lie. He’s so wrapped around her finger it pains even him sometimes. But it made sense for her to get her license, at least, just in case. So he helped teach her, and she flirted with her driving instructor, and in the end she passed with flying colours. Maggie suggested she lease a car and bill it to the agency, and that was a hard offer to turn down.

It turns out that her Temporal Dysplasia results in speeding. A lot. So Camille isn’t really surprised when they get pulled over.

“You were going almost twice the speed limit.” She says. Kirsten glares at her.

“You could have mentioned that.” She mutters. Camille shrugs.

“I’m not the police.” She reminds her friend, just as the actual police tap on Kirsten’s window. She rolls it down.

“License and registration, please.” He seems like a tough cop. Not tough like Fisher, but tough like he’s always had issues with authority and likes to take that out on blondes who speed on the freeway. Kirsten gets that sinking feeling in her stomach. She reaches into the glove box and pulls out her shiny new license, and the papers for the car. She knows she’s not a person who can talk their way out of a ticket, so she stays silent. Camille is texting someone, seemingly unconcerned.

“Wait here.” Tough cop says. He retreats to the cruiser, presumably to run her license. Kirsten turns to Camille.

“You can’t tell Cameron about this.” She says. He’ll flip out. He always watches the speedometer when she’s driving, and it annoys her to the point where she refuses to drive with him in the car. If they’re going somewhere together he has to drive. Camille never complains, so she’s Kirsten’s primary passenger. Then again, she never would have been pulled over for speeding if it was Cameron sitting beside her.

“I have a feeling he’ll find out.” Camille says vaguely. Kirsten’s about to ask her what she means when Tough Cop comes back.

“You’re lucky, I don’t have time to write you a ticket.” He seems annoyed by this, and hands back her licence. “Watch your speed next time, Mrs. Goodkin.” He’s gone as quickly as he came, and Kirsten tucks her papers back in the glovebox. When she sits back in her seat, she realizes Camille is staring at her.

“What?”

“Did he just call you _Mrs. Goodkin?_ ” Camille asks. Kirsten freezes.

“No?” She tries. Camille’s arm snakes out to grab Kirsten’s license. Kirsten tries to dodge it, but Camille is faster than she is. The brunette stares at the name on her license, mouth hanging open.

“Kirsten Goodkin.” She reads aloud. Her expression goes from incredulity to anger. “I’m sorry, are you _married_?!”

“Um.” Kirsten says. “Yes.” Camille hits her.

“To Cameron.”

“Yes.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why didn’t you tell me? When did you marry _Cameron??_ ”

The questions come rapidfire, and Kirsten blinks.

“We got married six months ago.” She begins. Cameron has been marking their one month anniversaries every month to help her keep track. He said it’s not important, he’ll understand if she forgets. She won’t. She’ll tattoo it on her forehead if that’s what it takes. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted to have some piece of my life that everyone at the lab didn’t know about.” Camille looks thoroughly hurt, and Kirsten recognizes the discomfort in her stomach as guilt.

“I thought we were friends.” Camille sounds utterly dejected.

“We are. I’m not-” Kirsten sighs. “I’m sorry. I guess I was afraid that it was only a matter of time until I ruined it. Saying it out loud makes it real. Things are easier when it’s just me and Cameron.” She knows that probably doesn’t explain anything. It made sense at the time. Somehow, though, Camille gets it. She lets out a long sigh, then pinches Kirsten’s arm, hard.

“Sometimes,” Camille mutters. “-you’re a real pain in my ass.” She waves the drivers license in the air like it’s proof of a crime. “You don’t even live together. I didn’t even know you were actually dating!”

Kirsten winces.

“I moved in with him in January.”

Camille counts backwards.

“That was eight months ago. Are you telling me I’ve been living alone for eight months and didn’t notice?”

“Well, I still have stuff at the house. And we hang out there sometimes because you and Linus are there.” Kirsten offers. It’s a kind of pitiful justification. Camille does not look reassured.

“I can’t _believe_ this. I can’t believe you, wait-” She narrows her eyes. “When did you and the good doctor actually get together?”

Kirsten frowns, digging her phone out of her pocket. She opens the calendar and begins flipping backwards through the months. She’s flipping for long enough that Camille raises her eyebrows. Finally, she finds the little purple dot she’s looking for. She squints at the date.

“October 22nd.” She says. “Of last year.” To her great surprise, Camille lets out an excited squeak and pumps her fist in the air.

“Oh that’s perfect.” She grins. Kirsten stares at her. “Kirsten, you sweet, lying little bastard.” That only adds to the confusion.

“What’s happening?” Kirsten asks warily. “Are you having a meltdown?” Camille just lets out a little cackle, rubbing her hands together.

“We need to get to the lab. I had Halloween in the office pool, which makes ME exactly two grand richer.”

Kirsten thinks about that, starting the car and pulling back onto the road.

“There was an office pool.” She repeats.

“There sure was. And I’m the big fat winner. I guess I can use some of that cash to buy you a wedding present.” Camille muses.

“You don’t have to do that.” Kirsten says automatically. Camille shrugs.

“Technically you helped me get it. By getting it.” She chuckles at her own innuendo. “And you’re going to tell me about that, just so you know. I expect the whole story.” The prospect of a sudden windfall has put her in a considerably better mood.

“Alright.” Kirsten actually looks forward to that. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted to share this with someone, but she’s suddenly realizing that it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her and she hasn’t told a soul. She wonders why on earth Cameron let her get away with this for so long.

“By the way, Fisher’s the one who got you out of that speeding ticket. I texted him that douchebag cop’s squad car number and he called in a favour. And now you owe him a favour. Or I guess maybe you can consider it your wedding present from him.” Camille chatters at her from the passengers side.

“Hm.” Is all Kirsten says. So that’s what Camille meant about Cameron finding out. He’s not going to be happy.

“So, Mrs. Goodkin.” Camille lowers her sunglasses to peer over at Kirsten. “Start at the beginning.”

It’s the second time someone has called her that today. She likes it, she realizes. Cameron calls her that when they’re alone, but the idea of telling the whole world that she gets to spend the rest of her life with him is suddenly intoxicating. She remembers it like it was yesterday, literally.

“Well,” She glances at Camille. “Remember when he killed himself?”


End file.
